Not like the subdued women of old fame,
With backsides squarely planted on the seat.
Here at our pee-washed porcelain pots will stand,
A mighty girl with bed-head and who's mane,
Is an embodied rats nest, and her name
Lily of Mohawks.
She balances precariously on bare feet
With tiny limbs astride from rim to rim,
As if she were an old and seasoned pro
Who often did perform this daring feat
Proud of her accomplishment , is she
And grinning calls "Come see how I can pee!"
My apologies to Emma Lazarus for taking such liberties.